


Zom Dom

by gala_apples



Series: Zom Dom [1]
Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/F, Friends With Benefits, background Major/Ravi, not season 4 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 20:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14120322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: Liv sees something she's not expecting, something staggering, and needs her not-quite-girlfriend to help her get into a better head space.





	Zom Dom

Liv's first thought is Ravi must have eaten a gay brain. What other reason could there be for the way Major and Ravi are sucking each other’s tongues? Her second thought is does the sock on the knob university trick work with the outside door to a house, or would she have not noticed it when she wasn't actively looking for it? Her third thought is she should leave. Now, before they notice her. 

Liv slips out as quietly as she can, locking the door with the spare key she still has. She slow breathes in her parked car until she can concentrate enough to drive back to the apartment.

“Liv! Wasn't expecting you home so soon,” Peyton says, casual smile on her sunshine face.

“Yeah. Change of plans, no big,” she manages to say. 

It'd be normal of her to sit in their open kitchen and chat with Peyton as she makes her dinner, but Liv can't quite manage it. She slinks off to her room like any stunned prey hiding in a cave since time immemorial. The only difference between her and a chomped on gazelle is she has a floral print comforter to pull over her when she collapses on her bed.

What Liv needs is to clear her head. She's had a few surefire ways to do that since beginning med school. Sometimes a reset is the only thing to save a gal from climbing four stories to the roof of the university and jumping off. Lately, though, she's developed a new technique. 

It all started with Roxanne Greer, otherwise known as Sweet Lady Pain. Sure the _I'm tough shit, you're a worm_ routine seemed pretty cliché after Liv detoxed from the brain, but there was a kernel of good there. Enough to start some serious Googling and find the world beyond Fifty Shades of Grey. Thank god Peyton proved to like it too, from the other side of it. 

It's not a 24/7 thing. It’s not even a daily thing. They’re still more friends than girlfriends. But it’s frequent enough that Liv feels comfortable leaving her room, going to the living room where Peyton is curled up with a bowl of soup and asking her for a scene. Peyton says yes, her agreement in a tone that Liv knows means it’s not just for her sake, that Peyton is excited for this.

There's an eye bolt in the wall. It protrudes from the living room wall pretty far, but luckily there's a lawyer's mind in the house. Peyton found some floating shelving at Home Sense and most of the time the eye bolt stays nestled underneath, unnoticeable. Nights like these it's part of the prep to take the succulents off the shelf, the shelf off the wall, and reveal the bolt in all its glory. There are a hundred ways they can use it, if they're creative.

Tonight the set up is pretty basic. All metal and leather, no ropes. Liv likes ropes, generally speaking, she can get lost in the beauty of shibari like any other dom. That’s not what she wants now though. She wants the quick fix of Peyton's ankles encased in the cuffs of a spreader bar, kneeling and naked. Next Liv wraps a neoprene cuff around each of Peyton’s wrists, careful to pull the buckle to the tightest comfortable setting. Liv runs her hands down Peyton’s arms like she’s settling a spooked horse, and when she’s sure Peyton is centred, gently pulls her wrists behind her back. Arms fully extended backwards, Liv puts one end of a quick release snap hook through the D ring of the left cuff, and the other end through the eye bolt. She repeats the actions with Peyton’s right cuff, and it’s done.

Thanks to the way Liv’s fixed it, Peyton has barely any give. Just the way Liv likes it. When she poses Peyton she doesn't really want her to shift. People don't like art that moves. 

“What’s your safeword, Peyton?” It's always tempting to just stick with this. To keep Peyton against the wall like human art, and deeply enjoy the masterpiece. But that wouldn't satisfy Peyton. Even turning it up a notch to predicament bondage wouldn’t do it for her. It’s enjoyed, but not enough to get Peyton all the way down. Despite Liv asking for this, this is about her too.

“Cloud.” Peyton’s answer is quieter than her normal tone. That’s how Liv knows the bondage is starting to do the job. It won’t be perfect, she won’t be _down_ until there’s some kind of pain, or discomfort, but it’s a decent start.

“Safe gesture?”

Peyton snaps her fingers once. 

“Good. You’re going to kiss me. You’re going to keep on kissing me.”

Peyton doesn’t say she agrees, because of course this isn’t a choice. Moments like these Peyton doesn’t want choices. Liv starts off with just making out with Peyton. It’s slow, and easy. Almost romantic. If there was a camera zoomed in on their faces, ignoring the larger setting, they could be the centre of an indie lesbian rom-com. Of course, Liv doesn’t end it there. After a few minutes she pinches Peyton’s nose closed. Peyton can easily jerk away if she needs to, break the seal of their mouths to say her word if she needs to. Otherwise it's a proof of concept beginning to the breathplay Peyton claims to really want to try. Liv monitors her reaction, and it’s nothing but positive. She decides to make one more gesture tonight, and leave the main event for its own scene at some later point. Still kissing her, Liv puts a hand around Peyton's throat. She doesn’t squeeze, but it's a palpable point of control. It’s hard to judge with Peyton already kneeling, but Liv’s almost certain the gesture’s made Peyton's knees go weak. She sags as they continue to kiss, straining her shoulders in the process. That’s what makes Liv wrap it up. There’s a difference between willingly received pain, and muscle strain.

The structure of the scene that’s building in Liv’s head is very oral based. She wants Peyton’s mouth full, and she wants her quiet. There are a few ways to accomplish this. Liv gives each option due thought as she slowly walks back and forth, naked and tall, putting on a show. Peyton is tracking her every movement. The idea of putting a dildo in Peyton’s mouth and telling her to keep it there is very tempting. Her lips would stretch wide, lovely pink against the brown rubber of her favourite toy. 

In the end though, Liv goes with a ball gag. They have more than one gag toy; a ring for when Liv wants to hear Peyton, a different ball gag with a harness for if she ever wants her sight obscured, a mouth corset for pure gothic aesthetic. They even have a leather muzzle, not that they’ve used it yet. Liv’s saving it for a special occasion. 

Liv pushes the red ball past Peyton’s spread lips. It’s a large sphere, diameter nearly two inches. Wide enough to create an ache in her jaw that she’ll feel the next meal she eats, though small enough to not actually hurt her. Once it’s settled behind her teeth, Liv does up the buckle, careful to not get Peyton’s hair stuck. That’s the kind of discomfort that’s not fun at all. 

Ten minutes later Peyton’s the very definition of visual satisfaction. Beautiful, with drool rolling down her chin, and crop marks lining her inner thighs. Liv even whipped her cunt a few times, not that that'll leave a mark. Liv stands back to admire her handiwork. She's proud of what she's done, proud and clearheaded and regimented. The need to scene is drawing to a close for her, and just as importantly, Peyton is desperate. 

Liv goes back to the toy chest and pulls out two vibrators. Two identical vibrators, which was a funny moment when they finally pooled their toys into one chest. Liv dials the toy to maximum vibration. It's the loudest noise in the room. She unhooks one of Peyton's hands from the eyebolt, the left hand to be a little more difficult, and puts the buzzing vibe in it. 

“I suggest you go hard. The second I come I'm turning yours off.”

It's Liv's final rush of power, watching Peyton frantically fuck herself on the vibrator, out of her mind desperate to finish before Liv stops her. And Liv could. They've done orgasm denial before. This time though she holds back. She doesn't press down hard on her clit until Peyton falls apart before her eyes. The whimper Peyton makes as she keeps holding the vibe to her over sensitive cunt because Liv didn't tell her she could stop is the last straw. Liv comes, body tensing, euphoria on par to the few times she's gone full feral and let her primal needs saitiate themselves. Except orgasms are better because the come down doesn't involve finding out you've done something wrong. Yeah she's hurt someone, tonight, but that doesn't mean wrong.

Aftercare is done the same as always. Liv puts on some acoustic folk music so unthreatening it’s practically Muzak. She sits at the end of the couch, and Peyton lays with her head in Liv’s lap. And slowly, _slowly_ she strokes Peyton’s head and hair as she sucks on a juicebox. Cherry Kool Aid, specifically. Like this Liv’s pulse feels steady, almost good enough to be human.

“You want to talk about what got you all riled, or will that rile you up again?”

“I wouldn’t say riled,” Liv hedges. It’s half not wanting to talk about it, half a test. Lawyers don’t like hedging. If Peyton’s willing to push, that means she’s out of pliant sub headspace and enough of her daytime self to actually handle the answer.

“Stop it Liv. Riled. Why?”

“Major and Ravi are together.”

“Like, together together? How do you know?”

Liv makes a pointed comment. “Is it so hard to believe that two perceived straight roommates end up in bed?”

“To be fair, we are rarely in a bed,” Peyton reasons. The comment makes her smile, briefly. Liv loves Debate Champ Peyton, even if it’s tiring sometimes.

“I caught them making out.”

“Maybe it was a mistake?”

Snorting is the only possible answer to that remark. “Like Major tripped and landed lips first on Ravi? Come on.”

“Ohh, testy.” Positioned the way they are, Liv can’t see Peyton rolling her eyes, but she’s sure she is. “I didn’t mean physically a mistake, I meant maybe they tried something and it doesn’t mean anything. We didn’t know if we were gonna mean anything when we went in for it that first time.”

“I might have froze and watched for a few minutes. It didn’t look like a first time. Ugh. I know it shouldn't bother me.”

“Shoulds and shouldn’ts aren't great for feelings. Trust me, I know.”

Liv sighs. “Major and I don't work. We've proved that more than once. And I've tried really hard to compartmentalize with Ravi. So why should it matter to me if they've found each other?”

“It matters because you love them both. And if you need to, babe, we can stay away for awhile, until it settles.”

“No, I miss Ravi.” Work is different, post flu. Clive and Dale run the branch of ZCP -zombie crimes and pathology- and as the zombie with the most experience, Liv helps train the other undead detectives. Ravi, on the other hand, has received a full apology from the CDC and is amongst those in the new Seattle facility looking for a true cure, not just the non-sexually transmittable stop-gap they've already developed. Liv likes some of her coworkers, but non are Ravi.

“So, we’re still going over in a few hours?”

“Text first,” Liv supplies. That’s a mistake she'll never make again.

“And we'll just not say anything.”

“Sounds like a plan.” After all, what other options are there?


End file.
